


bargains between lion and man

by heartattacked



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon, shower thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartattacked/pseuds/heartattacked
Summary: nijimura knows, logically, that every couple has a honeymoon phase and a decompression phase. he knows, logically, that all couples fight. but he and akashi, they haven’t really fought yet. at most, nijimura calls akashi out on his rich kid bullshit and akashi agrees that he is spoiled, and that’s that. so the next phase of their relationship is nothing that nijimura could predict.grocery bags hit the floor.“shit,” he crouches to pick up the spilled items. “how did you get in here?”nijimura shuuzou flip-flops between his ordinary life and the dazzling world of akashi seijuurou.
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou/Nijimura Shuuzou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	bargains between lion and man

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is nothing but shower thoughts that have been accumulating in my notes app over the last few weeks. i attempted to mash them together in a chronological timeline but it's honestly...an unedited mess. but thank u for clicking i hope u like it <3
> 
> in my next fic: mayuzumi, akashi, and some friends go camping ;3

harasawa’s fingers brutally dig into nijimura’s application. the sound of paper crinkling sizzles into nijimura’s ears.

“so.” he starts. “i bet you have many offers to choose from.”

nijimura winces.

“you’d be surprised. it’s been hard to find someone to take me seriously.”

“well, that’s a given. you haven’t played competitively in some years. maybe you’re just trying to relive glory days or spend your time doing something for leisure. what’s your competitive drive? what are you looking for?”

nijimura leans back into the sofa, tries not to grin. “i want to fight the generation of miracles. it would be a waste to not take them on. when i found out i was coming back to japan, it was all i thought about when applying to schools.”

harasawa shares a slight twitch of his lips, taps his pen against the paper.

“and your skill level? nobody has seen you play lately. i wonder…” harasawa considers. “would it be inappropriate to hold an audition?”

nijimura’s grin widens. “an audition?”

and an audition proceeds.

“quite the show, nijimura-san.”

“just doing what i do best—hopefully.”

“yes. you and aomine both play incredibly well suited to your positions, but where aomine may advance in physicality, your experience with leadership is something this team is lacking, at the moment, given our third year’s recent retiring. it would be a shame to pass you up.”

nijimura squints. “so?”

“so, before i sign this,” harasawa drops his pen and moves around the desk to an empty white board. he starts writing a few distinct kanji that has nijimura’s interest piqued immediately.

“our two main threats this year will be seirin and rakuzan. seirin, we have a slight advantage over in the heat of a match. they won’t be able to play the same at as last year without us catching up considerably. however, rakuzan is a nut we have yet to crack. taking them down is going to be our do-or-die this coming season. now,” harasawa glances back to nijimura. “what’s your opinion? how would you approach this new rakuzan. what raises my interest in you the most, nijimura, is your experience dealing with akashi seijuurou. he was only a captain after you, learned under you. _that_ is experience we need, and an intellect that would be invaluable. how would you approach rakuzan this year?”

nijimura eyes the kanji on the board. _rakuzan._ funny that he can’t even remember the team colors.

“i’d say…akashi was always a better captain than i was. if you play a game of wits with that kid, even handicapped, you’ll always lose,” nijimura shrugs. “how do you take down someone who relies on mind games? brute strength.”

harasawa chuckles. “there is no lack of brute strength at this school. here,” he signs a messy signature across nijimura’s application. “we may be past the deadlines, but take this to the attendance office. tell them we’re scouting you.”

❣

(the honeymoon begins at the summer interhigh.

a little before, but the timeline is scattered and they don’t see each other often before then, and the moments in which akashi meets eyes with nijimura across the gym, fire alight, are worth more than any kiss or hand hold.

the nationals of their second year is spottily fought at best. they’re on the national news. no longer bound to basketball monthly and university scouters, there’s an overwhelming background noise in akashi’s mind. the name _nash gold_ , the winter cup on the horizon, the construction on the graveyard inside him, his attempts at quiet and quaint daily living run over by jabberwock and butterflies in his chest.)

akashi hands over the rest of his school reports, his psychological exam, and a hefty notebook from his psychologist, a new addition upon recommendation from his own conscious, which is just peachy.

“then, you may go. if you’re here this coming saturday, i expect you at the gala. it'll be good press.”

“i will be.”

“and bring that boy you’re seeing.”

“okay—” akashi stands, freezes. “what?”

for a moment, his father continues to scribble on his documents, uninterested, while akashi gapes over him. but akashi swallows, accepting whatever string of fate this is.

“how do you know about that?”

masaomi sighs.

“one of the house workers came to me, trouble over the state of your innocence. i suppose you must not have been sneaking around effectively enough.”

“and you don’t care?”

“i’m not the conservative everyone seems to think i am. as long as you aren’t being dimwitted, your romantic episodes are none of my concern.”

“dimwitted?”

masaomi spares him a high-eyebrowed glance.

“don’t get into trouble, don’t let your grades fall, and for the love of all things, don’t contract any sexual diseases—”

akashi chokes, smiles kindly, backs toward the door.

“of course, father, goodbye.”

“i expect you to attend all the same—”

the door slams shut.

❣

akashi returns to kyoto from tokyo many times. his home is scattered these days. one foot in one city, one foot in another. sometimes, he feels odd, a strange anxiety bubbling in his gut.

he doesn’t have a roommate.

he stands in the middle of his bathroom. the water runs in the shower, steam spilling out, fogging up the mirror so he can’t really see himself. he steps into the water, tugging the door shut.

it’s not like he hadn’t done this before. he’s been exposed to the sexual antics of his teammates for many years, learned too much from aomine’s explicit magazines and heard horror stories about kise’s girlfriends. he knew mayuzumi had a collection of questionable anime dvds and mibuchi complained frequently of his many boyfriends’ lack of ‘volume’.

besides that, akashi has woken on lazy mornings with bubbling warmth in his chest as many times as any other physically active person his age. however, he can count on just a few fingers how many times he’d actually tried resolving the situation, and even fewer times how many times he’d reached a point of no return. sex wasn’t a keen interest of his, and pleasure, no matter how nice in the moment, is only temporary and nothing to rely on. he usually pushes the feeling away and goes about his days as normal. he didn’t ever look at people with lust, and he had certainly never entertained the idea of dating casually.

however, now he’s a little older, a little more relaxed in his mind, and coincidentally has an unfairly attractive, physically fit, older, and more experienced boyfriend, who has been showing him the joys of simple touch.

and on this particular evening, all alone, something is overflowing in him. he doesn’t know the rules of this, how he’s supposed to look nijimura in the eyes next time they see each other, but he closes his eyes, tongue on his lips, laying a hand on the firm skin of his stomach, trailing down until he has himself in his hand. he shivers, slowly working fingers into hot skin, allowing himself to sink. whispers of shame drift across his conscious but curiosity and arousal are far louder languages, ones he can’t speak but can feel in his veins as his heart beats faster.

he works himself slowly, sliding up, running his fingers slowly along, pressing in and figuring out what and how and ignores the why, relying on feeling to push him into it.

it climbs up on him faster than he expected. water was falling on his back but he steps past it, falling on the cool tile wall, head rolling back. his other hand moves instinctively, lightly scratching up his torso and neck, completely taken.

he chokes, moving his hand faster, gripping tighter, and caressing those spots that make him want to keen, until he’s trembling, knees shaking in pleasant surprise. the intensity of the heat climbing higher was one thing but when the orgasm solidifies, slowly at first, like a door opening, his mouth falls, and it hits. his entire body wracks with heat, head falling into his shoulder, legs giving out. he pumps himself a few times compulsively but releases the weight as his body slips down the shower wall, twitching, releasing streams of white onto his chest.

he breathes heavily as he comes down, eyes opening to an unfocused shower of water that could care less what he was washing down the drain.

❣

going into overtime is a recipe for disaster. this much is common knowledge across sports. overtime cancels skill and effort, and boils an entire performance down to messy, stamina-less plays and luck. overtime matches rarely display true representation of the teams at hand.

overtime is also a testament of resilience.

shirogane calls a time-out after aomine dunks with four point zero two seconds on the clock, giving them a two point lead. shirogane knows there’s no hope if they go into overtime. touou led points the entire game. overtime would go back in their favor. but only akashi can decide what predictions will ring true, and he knows four point zero two seconds is enough time to get work done.

neither team wants to go into overtime.

“i won’t let you through,” nijimura breathes, harshly.

akashi steps into his space, ball hitting the ground like thunder.

“i didn’t ask.”

nijimura falls back. when akashi steps around to shoot, it’s haphazard. he doesn’t shoot, so much as throw the ball to the hoop. nijimura is right behind him—

the world bleaches away. needles pierce his entire body as he hits the ground, static tumbling inside him. the yells of the crowd turn to white noise.

_“basket counts! one free throw!”_

nijimura whips his head up, world spinning even faster.

he makes eye contact with akashi a few feet away; he looks just as dazed, breathing hard, pushing himself up from the floor. he doesn’t wear the satisfaction of someone giving themselves a winning shot.

the whistle blows and they line up. nijimura thinks, akashi has probably never missed a free throw in his life.

❣

_103-102_

akashi tries to find nijimura after the game, but gets swallowed whole by the onslaught of journalists and photographers, of his team throwing themselves into a rumbustious craze. his shoulders carry the weight of his team hanging off him, tumbling like hail from the sky on a sunny day. still, a lightness carries him.

the coming days would be filled with winter sun and celebration, so after the waves calm, akashi thinks he can spare a few moments in this post-victory haze to decompress.

where the lights in the gymnasium are blindingly bright, outside is unapologetically dark. akashi wanders out some side door, out onto stone grounds. the air is crisp and his breaths come out in huffs of white as he descends the ramps. he stops suddenly as he rounds the building, spotting a figure on the steps. akashi smiles, a slight twinge of melancholy in the upward twist of his mouth and downturned squint in his eyes. nijimura has always been quite endearing.

akashi is about to retrace his steps and go back to his team, but nijimura calls out.

“i’m not blind.”

akashi turns.

“i was going to leave you to mope in privacy, senpai. surely you wouldn’t want an underclassmen to see you with these bearings.”

“akashi, has anyone told you have a shit sense of humor.”

“quite a few.”

nijimura pushes away from the railing, saying “well, you have nothing to worry about. i’m not crying.”

it’s true, akashi notes as nijimura walks over. his eyes aren’t red or bloodshot, his cheeks clear and matte as usual. now that akashi thinks about it, he’s never seen nijimura cry before. he wonders what it would take.

“i’m sorry you didn’t win your last game in high school.”

“what are you apologizing for? that foul was your birthday present, i did it on purpose.”

akashi laughs outright. nijimura looks down at him with fondess, wrapping his arms around his waist; akashi catches on and brings his arms up to lay lazily around his neck. nijimura looks perfect like this, akashi thinks, hair blown back in the chilled breeze, a tinge of red from the cold on the top of his cheeks, staring down at him like moonlight.

“i really am sorry. the entire game was very messy.”

“pity doesn’t look good on a smug face, akashi-sama. you were always better suited for winning, anyway.”

nijimura kisses him.

“i didn’t realize,” akashi says, when they pull away. “that winning would feel so good. nationals weren’t like this. it feels like i actually won something. like i took back a crown.”

“hey now, if you’re going to rub it in at least do it like this.”

nijimura backs him under the shadow of the pavilion, pressing his body between him and the wall. akashi sighs happily into his mouth, hands coming up to hold him in place by the back of his head. in the cold, akashi can’t actually feel much besides the heat of their breaths mingling between them, the warmth of nijimura’s mouth as they mold together. a small sound of appreciation flutters out of nijimura’s throat as akashi lightly grazes his nails over nijimura’s scalp. nijimura kisses him harder.

“ _hey_ , _freaks_!”

they jerk apart. aomine stands some twenty feet down, holding the door open. yellow light spills onto the pavement. he looks equal parts disgusted and intrigued.

“everyone’s waiting to leave!”

❣

(their first kiss is on the steps of nijimura’s parents house, away from everything and everyone.

the details are infinite and they both say it happened in a different way but nijimura held akashi as he cried, and their feelings solidified, proven to not just them but the air they breathed and the space they existed in. the earth held them up, gently, but gravity kept them from floating away.

the floating away comes later, when gravity becomes optional next to having nijimura in his peripherals.)

❣

“can i be your sugar daddy?”

“what. no. i never want to hear you say _sugar daddy_ again.”

“i want you to feel _expensiveee_ ,” akashi sings, roping his arms around the taller one’s neck, a place akashi is growing wonderfully accustomed to.

“ _you‘re_ the expensive one in this relationship. besides, i like that everything you’re wearing costs more than this place’s rent. if you’re standing next to me i already feel rich.”

akashi melts into cloud nine like pudding.

“you like showing me off.”

nijimura tries to shove him away, cheeks blooming red, but akashi hangs on.

“my wealth is attractive to you.”

“shut _uuuup_ , idiot. let’s go eat.”

❣

on the day nijimura moves into his apartment, he’s followed by a handful of movers hauling in his very limited amount of boxes of furniture coming from nitori. these movers are quickly overtaken by a different set of movers, unloading much larger boxes from their truck.

nijimura isn’t quite sure what to think of this until akashi sneaks up behind him and says “boo,” right into his ear. nijimura startles.

“this is your first apartment,” akashi says, as though it explains everything. “i wanted you to have the best of the best, that is also environmentally sustainable.”

“kid.” nijimura stands, arms crossed, in the doorway of the apartment, watching strangers open boxes and assemble what looks to be a coffee table. a coffee table, nijimura knows, that has a four digit price tag. “why…”

he just doesn’t know what to say.

“this is for the best,” akashi nods. “i’ve heard raging things about this _cloud couch._ and do you like the gold accents for the kitchen? i thought about silver but thought it might be washed out in the window light…”

a few hours and headache later, nijimura’s empty, stark apartment overflows with meaningless and materialistic furniture that happens to be made of recycled materials and organic fabric. actually, it’s not horrible, nijimura knows. akashi’s tastes are pretty refined and simple, and he has a good eye for detail, but for nijimura, who is accustomed to living with two children and working parents in a disarrayed house full of thrifted rugs and sofas, it’s a bit overwhelming.

when the movers leave, akashi clicking the lock into place, nijimura collapses on the couch, arms over his eyes.

“is this what i have to look forward to? a lifetime of sugar babying?”

akashi settles in next to him, elbow in the soft pillows, smiling.

“are you admitting to it then?”

nijimura pouts, staring up at the other boy with as much _really?_ as he can fit in a glare.

“i’m so happy you accept me for all my old money and the emotional baggage that comes with it.”

“god,” nijimura’s arms fall away, looking up at akashi, eyes pinched, lips happy. “you’re so fucking weird, but i love you anyway.”

akashi pauses, but doesn’t let it fluster him. “hmm. i love you too.”

“yeah?”

“isn’t it obvious?” akashi asks, angling his face down to kiss him.

nijimura kisses him back slowly, running fingers through red hair. golden hour lights them afire in the window light. nijimura wants his future to look like this.

❣

nijimura knows, logically, that every couple has a honeymoon phase and a decompression phase. he knows, logically, that all couples fight. but he and akashi, they haven’t really fought yet. at most, nijimura calls akashi out on his rich kid bullshit and akashi agrees that he _is_ spoiled, and that’s that. so the next phase of their relationship is nothing that nijimura could predict.

grocery bags hit the floor.

“shit,” he crouches to pick up the spilled items. “how did you get in here?”

akashi smiles, apologetically.

“you conveniently left the spare key in my line of sight, the last time i was here. so…i also got your mail for you. i also washed your dishes. they’re drying by the sink.”

nijimura stares, before dropping everything on the countertop.

“you know you live in tokyo too, right? you have like, a fucking castle to go home to.”

akashi nods. “i like it here better.”

nijimura chooses not to comment.

“where’s the mail?”

“ah, here.” akashi slides a pile of papers forward. “it looks like there’s something from meiji university.”

❣

akashi’s seventeenth birthday is a whirlwind. january floods in on a cold breeze, bringing the future and reality along with it. strangely, the two of them don’t really talk about the future. nijimura keeps his to himself and akashi prefers talking about his past. they’re both insanely busy, but akashi still tries to loiter in nijimura’s cozy apartment, not the smallest in tokyo, but not the biggest. he’s on the tenth floor up, somewhere in minato, giving way to a pretty view of a humble neighborhood.

“ah.” akashi flashes the caller id up. “may i? it might be loud in the hall. i’ll leave right after.”

nijimura ruffles his hair sweetly, and steps away toward the dark space of the room.

“yeah, i’ll lock up in a bit. goodnight akashi. ”

“goodnight. see you next weekend. or the next. or the next.” his shoulders dip, apologetically.

and nijimura waves, disappears into the bathroom. akashi talks to his father briefly, a meeting here and there he needs to attend, dress codes and fine dining, but that leaves him in the apartment, alone. he can hear the shower water running, sees the outline of light under the door.

he contemplates momentarily. he shouldn’t. but…

akashi sets his things down on the couch, shrugging off his coat, leaving his shoes at the door. he discards his clothes for his lighter, looser unworn practice clothes, sweats and t-shirt, and once he’s run a hand through his kept hair to unkempt it and put all his belongings into a nice pile there, he tiptoes down the hall, past the bathroom door (he eyes carefully), and into the small bedroom, sliding the door open and close as quietly as possible, leaving everything as it was before.

nijimura’s bedroom is a strange reflection of him. clean cut architecture of the room juxtaposed with his messy tenancies to leave this and that laying around, desk cluttered to hell and back with books and papers. normally, akashi might turn the light on and see what nijimura was reading, for school or otherwise, might shuffle his papers in order and put his messy piles of clothes away…

but it’s dark, and all akashi can see is the faint outline of some larger things and then the bed, highlighted under the light of the window, the window throwing in a vision of the cityscape against a backdrop of endless night sky and airplane lights.

nijimura had made his bed, akashi notes happily, crawling into the crisp, cool sheets.

he waits patiently, sheets up to his knees, comfortably watching lights of other buildings flicker on and off as other people retire for the evening and as others just begin. his heart beats quite normally, no sense of urgency but still, a thrum in his blood. curiosity.

soon, the water cuts off. the apartment goes quiet and he can hear nijimura shuffling around, a sigh and a yawn, and then padding down the hall and the door sliding open. his chest is bare, sweats hanging low. nijimura may not show off his body often but it’s certainly a sculpted one. he’s taller than akashi, broader and firmer, but still not bulky or overtly muscular. the blend of powerful and sublime is what makes akashi’s legs quiver. nijimura sweeps a towel through his damp hair, at first not noticing the extra person in his room but when he does, he jumps back and thuds against the closed door, swearing.

“oh my god. you scared the shit out of me.”

“i thought i would surprise you.”

nijimura stares with dark eyes. akashi bites back a laugh, meeting his gaze with amusement and a twinge of apology.

“i’m gonna murder you. weren’t you leaving?”

“i thought i would stay. if you are okay with it, of course.”

nijimura, heart race cooling, lumps the towel onto the desk chair and walks up to the bed.

“i don’t know. do you kick people in your sleep?”

“you’ll be the first to attest if i do, nijimura-san. but i would hope not.”

“nightmares?”

“not usually.”

“then…it’s fine, isn’t it?”

and nijimura kneels into the mattress and crawls over akashi to the other side.

“my side.”

akashi frowns. “i don’t like sleeping on the open side.”

“it’s my bed, loser.”

akashi pulls himself up, and without thinking too much and not letting nijimura protest, throws his legs over nijimura’s torso, straddling his clothed hips. nijimura catches the small of his back, surprised.

“i don’t _lose_ , nijimura-san.”

nijimura makes a sound of protest that is muffled down when akashi kisses him, firmly. though really, it’s a massage, akashi working nijimura’s lower lip, that is so deliciously on display most of the time, with his own lips, rolling his tongue over the closed mouth, feeling nijimura’s heavy breaths on his face.

nijimura’s momentary shock is eaten away by his lips parting, akashi’s tongue falling inside to lap the heat, feeling more aggressive now. nijimura’s hold on akashi’s clothed waist is quite delicate but akashi holds onto his upper hip, digging his fingers into the cotton of his pants, thumbs pressing down into the muscle of his thighs. it’s unintentionally sexual but akashi must not realize, and nijimura’s mind goes pure white.

nijimura falls back slightly, only to throw his weight over akashi and flip them. akashi falls happily on the pillows.

nijimura leans down, elbows on either side of akashi’s face, bringing their lips back together. they kiss like that, quietly, akashi holding nijimura in place by the palms in his hair, but nijimura leaves his mouth, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down his face and neck, picking an open spot in the crevice of his throat to suck down diligently, tongue softly rolling over the area. akashi makes a timid sound of affirmation. he runs his hands laxly through his hair, encouraging him.

meanwhile, akashi slides one leg at a time out from nijimura’s cage for nijimura to settle between. but he doesn’t. nijimura continues holding his weight up. akashi doesn’t know why but he’s more interested in the heat blossoming from his neck. it’s definitely going to bruise.

he wants to be closer. he let’s a hand drop between them, running over nijimura’s collarbones first, but slowly dropping lower to press his fingers into the toned muscle. his skin is smooth and clean, still the tiniest bit damp from the hot shower, molding to akashi’s presses easily. nijimura shifts slightly. akashi continues over his pecs, he let’s his hand trace diligently on the line of his diaphragm until nijimura’s breaths deepen. akashi relishes in the way his lightly defined abs shudder under the touch.

nijimura pops off the spot, blowing cold air. akashi let’s out an _ah_ on accident, head twisting into the pillows.

“you might have to cover that up tomorrow.”

“would never.”

and akashi let’s him kiss his lips gently. he raises his legs up to hold nijimura in place. akashi traces the edge of his waistband wistfully, bringing his hand back up to grab the bulge of nijimura’s biceps.

“akashi…what are you doing?” he says it gently.

“i wonder.”

akashi continues to caress his arms, pretending to not be flustered by the question.

“akashi _iiii._ ”

nijimura kisses his neck again, akashi can feel the smile on his skin, but he pulls back and sits up, removing his weight from the smaller boy entirely, sitting back on his legs. akashi pulls his legs up, eyebrows furrowed.

“what is it?”

“…i mean…i know we’ve been together for a while now but… i wanted to wait.”

akashi stares, uncomprehending.

“until you turn eighteen.”

akashi’s mouth falls open a little. into a little _o_.

he’s silent.

“i’m sorry. we should’ve talked about this before.” nijimura looks down at him. “i should’ve brought it up but we haven’t been…you know. that physical. i didn’t realize you wanted to.”

nijimura purses his lips, waiting. he reaches out to touch akashi’s bare legs, to try coaxing him into understanding, but akashi pulls his gaze away, huffs, and pulls himself up. nijimura moves aside.

“you never told me that.”

“i know you’re probably fine with it but it’s for my own peace of mind. i’m gonna feel better about it if you’re an adult.”

nijimura tries to lay next to him gently, but akashi scoots forward, blankets falling away, shirt falling back into place at his hips.

“my birthday,” he starts. “is in one year.”

nijimura’s lips tighten. “i know. it won’t be easy but really, there’ll be a difference. a year makes a big difference. i know you’re mature and probably more than ready but i _am_ an adult. it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of that.”

“taking advantage of _what_? there’s nothing to take when i am giving it.”

nijimura had never seen akashi mad before. he didn’t realize how flustered he could get, with a slight tremble behind his words and and tightly woven fingers.

“maybe if you’re reacting like this then you’re just proving i’m right.”

akashi stills, shoulders pulled taut.

nijimura continues, “don’t be embarrassed. it’s not like i haven’t thought about it too. i don’t mind if you sleep over from time to time though.”

akashi bites his lips, rolling his tongue harshly against the skin. his cheeks carry a bright stain but after a moment of thought he looks back, at nijimura propped up on his elbow, waiting for him.

“you’re right,” akashi swallows. “that was unsightly of me.”

“it would’ve happened eventually. like i said, i should’ve been more clear from the start.” nijimura laughs quietly, rolling onto his back. “honestly? i didn’t think you had any libido. who knew the great akashi seijuurou could get horny.”

“ _shut up._ ” akashi reaches back and throws a pillow into his face. nijimura laughs even brighter. “i’m going home.”

“nooo.” nijimura draws out, grabbing his arm as akashi moves. “i meant it, you should stay. let’s sleep together. it’s already late.”

❣

“you should come with us.”

“should come _with_ you? it’s exam season _and_ i have a job now, remember? i’m too busy to go on _frivolous_ trips into the mountains in fucking _hokkaido_.”

“frivolous?” nijimura can see akashi frown. “that’s my word. besides, if you don’t go, it will just be kuroko, chihiro, and myself. once we get to akita, murasakibara-san and himuro-san will be tagging along as well.”

an itch, under nijimura’s skin. a twitch of his eyelid.

“why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“because you’re nijimura-san.”

nijimura holds the spoon under the running water of his sink the wrong direction and water flies up in his face. he sputters. as he’s drying himself off, akashi says, “you could call me seijuurou, if you like.”

nijimura silently mouths the symbols, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder.

“it’s kinda a mouthful, no offense.”

“none taken.”

“you’re just…akashi. yeah. you should go on your stupid trip, kid. go be a seventeen year old while you can.”

akashi laughs, a fluttery sound through the phone line. “don’t speak like you’re already thirty. i invited you. i can pay your rent this month, if you’d like to take off work.”

“you will _not_.”

❣

the farside of the tracks. if the the tracks are high, seated on the lay lines of the inner city, counting down from zero to the next stop, parading lights and livelihoods to specific, well-lit destinations, this is the underneath. the dark, shadowed staircase below the rumble of train cars, hidden from the moon, surrendered to peace, a coming-of-age come and gone, winter well on it’s way to settle the battlegrounds with flawless white snow and stillness.

they all sit on the stair steps to the entrance of the tokyo metropolitan gymnasium, away from the commotion. akashi watches them with shallow eyes, vision half cast to the tired and satisfied faces of his friends and half beyond, to something that lays farther down in the thoroughfare, something he can’t visualize to its full potential. it’s blurry.

blurry but fine, is what he tells himself. this moment where they aren’t quite sure what lays ahead, but are content to wait these seconds out, to linger in the pocket of space that is only theirs, to fondly hold their title for just a little while longer, before letting it flutter away as they, one-by-one, when they’re ready to, stand and go home to rest their legs.

❣

“what’s up?” nijimura shakes akashi’s shoulders, playful, to get him out of his daze. akashi had been napping in the five pm sun.

akashi breathes, peacefully. he looks deep in though, but not stressed, concerned.

“can i be honest?”

“i want you to be. was it too much? not enough?” nijimura squints. he’ll try not to let his ego get hit too hard.

akashi chuckles, shaking his head.

“it’s about college, actually?”

“you’re thinking about _college_ right now? what about me?”

“it was hours ago, senpai. i’ve had dreams since then.”

he falls over akashi on the couch, working himself into the optimal big spoon position.

“then tell me what’s up.”

akashi stays quiet, before speaking.

“i got a call from cambridge university a few days ago. they invited me to attend in the fall.”

nijimura bites his lip. his heart sinks, but he tries, for the sake of pretending, to reel it back up, to keep it steady.

“akashi, you should do what you want. if you want to go abroad, don’t let me or anything else stop you. we can figure out long distance or whatever.”

akashi hums, gracefully tracing nijimura’s arms pulled tight around his shoulders.

“but there is something else. i applied to tokyo university on my own. i was already accepted before the call.”

“woah, seriously?”

“i applied to see if i could do so without any outside interference. i know my father wanted me to attend a western university, but…now i don’t know.”

nijimura shrugs, pushing akashi’s hair back.

“it’s not up to me.”

“this may sound out of character, but i have experienced a luxury education ever since i was a child. i thought it would be nice to do something more casual given that my father’s company is an open door to me regardless.”

“but you hate normal people,” nijimura teases.

akashi frowns, dimples on display, freckles lighting up as sun rains through the window.

“i simply won’t interact with them.”

nijimura laughs.

“well, do your best, kid.”


End file.
